“Oh, for god's sake,” muttered Kanpei. He knew Barnaby, old and married to his biases as he was, would celebrate news of an attack on Earth. He'd always been vocal about his disdain for the Earthlings, and had spent the day trying to convince the rest of the crew that Earth was a lost cause, undeserving of aid in any form. “The situation on Earth is dire, yes. But it is not a laughing matter. Keep your prejudices to yourself, Barnaby. I scarcely think anyone aboard this vessel should care to hear more of them.”
Barnaby rolled his eyes and descended from the bridge. “I eagerly await the Captain's decision,” he croaked as he began down one of the corridors that led away from the command center. “I should just hope that he makes the right decision.”
Kanpei slouched in his seat. “That man is exhausting.”
Cleo and Gene crowded Kanpei as Barnaby faded from view. When they were sure the old Bosun was out of earshot, they bombarded Kanpei with questions of their own.
“How bad is it, Mr. Kanpei? Are they asking for our help?” asked Gene, his eyes wide.
Kanpei pursed his lips and ignored the cabin boy’s relentless questioning.
Cleo chuckled. “Well, if they are askin’, I don't imagine there are a lot of us up here who are ready to lend 'em a helpin' hand. They are Earthlings after all. They haven't done much to ingratiate themselves to us over the years now, have they?”
“Well, did someone attack them or something?” asked Gene, leaning in entirely too close.
Kanpei paused. If the dispatches were to be believed, an alien force was behind the attack. News of aliens would see the ship consumed with a fresh wave of frantic hearsay, however. The last thing they needed was more gossip amongst the crew. Already they were all too busy speculating to get their work done. He waved Gene away with a grimace. “Why don't you go see if Barnaby needs help with something. Or, if you've got enough time on your hands for chit-chat, you could head on down to the mess hall and help old Horace get our evening meals ready.”
Gene lowered his gaze. “Y-yes, sir.” He shuffled off down the corridor, leaving Cleo and Kanpei alone in the command center.
The two remained silent for some time. When finally the silence was broken, it was Kanpei who spoke with a long sigh. “Can you keep a secret, Cleo?”
She nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
“There’s been an attack. Truthfully, the Captain is reticent, however... I think it would be wise to assist Earth. I don't know much about the enemy, except that they're... peculiar.”
“I hear ya. I ain't a fan of Earth, but then I'm no fan of senseless murder, either.” She walked over and slapped Kanpei on the shoulder playfully. “Look alive there, Mr. Kanpei. The Cap'n will come to a decision soon enough. Heh, I'll be he's in there acting all dramatic, ain't he? Probably throwing tantrums and acting like it's the last thing in the world he wants to do, yeah? He always looks to ya to piece things together. It's only after you've talked him straight that he gets a bearing on the situation. You went in there n' said your piece. I reckon it'll all sink in before long.”
Kanpei cracked a smile.
“He has to act that way. If he were to just jump up and help 'em out, the crew would think he lost his mind. Ain't exactly a lot of cheerleaders for the Earth side on this ship. You know how he is. He likes to waffle n' act all tough, but at the end of the day, he's a sweetie. I expect we'll be setting out for Earth real soon now.”
She was a tall woman, Cleo, and strong, too. Her arms bulged, the straps of her overalls hanging taut upon her powerful frame. Had Kanpei wished to challenge her to a contest of strength, there was no doubt in his mind that the powerful Cleo would defeat him handily. Still, despite the roughness of her in general, her facial features were possessed of a gentle, pretty character, which presented as a most curious dichotomy of brawn and beauty.
“Maybe so,” he said. “And the ship; how are things running at present?”
Cleo paused to think, giving her braided ponytail a toss. “Everything was running well last I checked. We could use a few spare parts, maybe, and some fuel. But generally speaking we could make a few trips to Earth the way things're runnin' at present. Everything is fully functional, and we ain't had a battle in some time, so there's nothin' to repair.”
“Good. Run a thorough status report and make certain there's nothing we need. Just in case we end up setting out.”
She nodded. “Yessir!” Cleo left the bridge, leaving Kanpei to sit alone and meditate on the situation at hand.
On the one hand, he thought to himself, to assist Earth would be to assist those who have banished generations of our people to space. We might risk a mutiny should enough of the crew take exception to such a course. If, however, we ignore the dispatches, then we'd be knowingly endorsing what might become a full-fledged genocide. And when they're through with the Earthlings, there's no telling whether us space-born will be targeted...
Kanpei's years on Methuselah had seen him grow haggard. He'd joined up as a fresh-faced sailor early in the Captain's command, and after some years, when he and the Captain had established good rapport as friends, he'd been promoted to Quartermaster. His hair was more salt than pepper these days, and the dark circles under his eyes never seemed to fade, even during those periods when they had no missions and were free to rest. Kanpei was rare among the crew, for his value resided not in his exceptionalism or talent, but in the evenness and loyalty with which he treated the crew and the Captain. None were more capable of diffusing sticky situations between the crewmen and the often stubborn Faust. If the Captain ultimately decided to assist Earth, as Kanpei hoped, then they'd be faced with a great problem, however. It would almost certainly prove an unpopular decision. Some in their ranks would likely leave the ship. He hoped, at least, that he'd be able to keep them from doing so with violence.
The subject of Earth was a sensitive one among some in space. While the majority of the space-born regarded the Earthlings with cool indifference, others, often the more traditional among them, still carried hatred for those of the Blue Planet. These who could not set aside their grudge for Earth, of which there were a known few on board, were likely to protest any decision to fight off the alien invaders.
He leaned back in the command chair, eyeing the consoles around him dazedly. In one of the dispatches he'd caught a fleeting glimpse of an alien vessel-- a large one. What, he wondered, did the inside of such a ship look like? Would Methuselah be hopelessly out-classed by the exotic technologies of this alien race? He knew them to possess considerable fire-power, but could discern little of their full capabilities, since the ship in question hadn't been in proper combat, but firing on unarmed civilians. He clenched his hand into a fist as he thought of it. Damn it, Captain. We need to help them.
Heavy footfalls echoed through one of the nearby corridors. Faust emerged into the command center, his hair up neatly and dressed in his usual attire; the fitted black vest and pants that he was accustomed to wearing into battle. He wore also his beam saber at his side, its silvery handle throwing off a glimmer as he approached the command chair.
Kanpei jumped up and offered him the seat. “Captain?”
Faust met him with a nod and dropped down into the command chair. Taking in a deep breath, he leaned back and crossed his legs before switching on the intercom. He was preparing to make an announcement to the ship's crew. “This is your captain speaking,” began Faust. “As you're likely already aware, we’ve received numerous dispatches today from Earth. The planet is under attack. The attackers, so far as we can tell, are not human-- that is-- they are a completely different species from somewhere deep in space. We do not know why they have come or whether they will continue the hostilities, however Earth has reached out to the space-born for assistance. Having given up war, they have no military or weapons of their own to fight with. So, I have decided that Methuselah will answer their call. When we've stocked the ship with supplies, we'll be setting off for Earth immediately.” He paused, before adding, “And, as alway
s, for those with no interest in this mission, I extend to you the option of leaving Methuselah.”
Kanpei's heart soared. He fought back a smile as he listened to the Captain's message. He came around after all, the bastard!
“Details are forthcoming for those of you who decide to stay with us. That is all.” Faust hung up the intercom and slid back in his seat, pawing at the armrests pensively. “Well, Mr. Kanpei,” he said arching a brow at the Quartermaster. “Ready to quell a mutiny?”
CHAPTER 2
It was within the space of a minute that the first crewmen arrived on the bridge. Some wore looks of surprise or relief at the news, and had many questions as well. Others, though-- among them the old Bosun and Jack Savage, the militant instructor of the ship's pilots-- took obvious exception and shared a few choice words with the Captain.
“Captain Faust!” cried out Jack, his hands in the air. Barnaby was on his heels, face drawn into a scowl, arms crossed. “What's the meaning of this? This... this is an insult! With all due respect sir, I cannot believe you'd put the crew of this ship in harm's way to help those mongrels on Earth! Have you forgotten history, sir? Have you forgotten--”
Faust put his hand up, silencing Jack and casting a steely gaze upon him. “Save your outrage for the space aliens, Mr. Savage.” As Jack began to reply, Faust silenced him once more, “Or, if you like, get the hell off my ship.”
Jack gritted his teeth, his face growing red. “You've got to be kidding me,” he muttered.
Barnaby stepped forward, the lines in his old face quivering with anger. “Captain Faust, certainly you haven't thought this through enough? To put the crew through such an ordeal is not only irresponsible, but irrational. We have no reason to help the Earthlings. There is no benefit in doing so. They are not our friends, nor do they possess anything of worth.”
Faust, seething in the command chair, presented a grimace that sent a shudder through all those who saw it. His eyes settled on the old Bosun, his hand rapping a slow cadence against the armrest. He leaned forward and replied from between clenched teeth. “Don't you think it unwise to tell me how to run my ship, Barnaby? Surely you've been under my command long enough to know better than all that, yes?” Faust bounded up out of his chair, sending a number of angry crewmen at the fringes of the command center back into the corridors from whence they came.
The Captain was not one to tolerate disrespect. Challenges to his decisions, if worded without hostility, were welcome. Marching onto the bridge and throwing fits would not be tolerated however, and certainly those who had assembled in the command center had sailed long enough on Methuselah to know better. Some years prior, during a similar mission to assist a mining crew on a remote asteroid, a number of men, dissatisfied with the Captain's decision, approached Faust on deck and made clear their intentions to take over the ship. When all was said and done, two of the conspirators were killed, the rest crammed into a single escape pod and fired into deep space. The death toll might’ve climbed higher, had not various of the mates on deck managed to restrain the fuming skipper.
Jack and Barnaby staggered back a few paces, and the Bosun attempted to smooth things over. He knew that the Captain was not above making an example of him in front of the rest of the crew. “Sir, I meant no disrespect, however...”
“The Earthlings, cruel as they have been to our people, possess resources that us space-born haven't got access to,” blurted Kanpei from Faust's side. The last thing he wanted was for the command center to erupt in a brawl. “I don't believe that the Captain intends for us to work pro-bono. In fact, I expect that the Earthlings will be able to pay us handsomely for our efforts. We are in agreement that it would be a most lucrative venture.”
The beginnings of a smile teased the edges of Faust's lips. He took to stalking around the command center like a lion, the assembled crewmen staying well out of his way as he paced. They’d come to the command center ready to riot, but had evidently reconsidered once they caught sight of the wicked look in the Captain’s eye. “Mr. Kanpei is right,” he growled. After a pause he then added, turning sharply to face Jack and Barnaby and sending a fright through much of the crew, “And anyone who has an aversion to this work is welcome to pack up and leave at the next stop. I won't keep you here. Share this information with the rest of the crew, Barnaby. And as for the rest of you, access to the command center is now restricted only to essential personnel. Return to your posts at once!” His voice echoed fiercely throughout the command center, marking the end of the dialogue. To further drive the point home, he stationed himself beside the command chair and grasped the hilt of his beam saber.
None among them had the audacity to groan or complain and they shuffled meekly from the bridge back to their respective positions on the ship. Barnaby and Jack, too, though still obviously indignant, departed with a nod. Save for the sounds of the ship’s active systems and the mumblings of the remaining crew, the command center was silent.
When all but a few had gone, Faust turned to Kanpei and slapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “Well done, Mr. Kanpei. The promise of compensation ought to be enough to quell the tempers of all but the most stalwart among them. Let's just hope that, when the time comes, the Earthlings can pay...” He laughed and walked the perimeter of the command center before returning to his chair. “We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. At the moment, we have a good deal of work to do.”
“I've followed up with some of the crew. Cleo tells me that everything is running at full efficiency. Spare parts and fuel are all we should need on her end,” said the Quartermaster, a wave of relief washing over him.
Faust nodded. “We'll see to it that she gets them. And the rest?”
Kanpei smiled weakly. “Well, I'll have to grill Barnaby about the stock of supplies. I've got Gene helping Horace with the evening meal, so I'll have him inquire after our needs in that area.”
“Very good. Compile a list of everything we'll need. I don't want to waste any time. When we're through with the evening meal we'll set out at once for Anvil Station.”
“Anvil Station, sir?”
“That's right,” replied Faust, peering at his console display, which featured a hologram of surrounding space. Zooming out a bit, he continued. “It would seem that Anvil Station is the nearest outpost. It lays almost half-way between Mars and Earth. Providing there are no delays...” He did a quick calculation. “We'll be there within two hours. Maybe an hour, if conditions permit. How is space looking? Have you spoken to Stella? What says the S.A.L.V.O?”
The S.A.L.V.O unit, or Systemic Auditory Location Verification Operator was an advanced form of detection technology, similar to radar. The ship's navigator, a blind woman named Stella Ruiz, was in charge of operating it. While moving through the void, the S.A.L.V.O would be linked to Stella's body by a headset. An infrared beam would be sent from the ship to comb the surrounding area, which in turn would relay information back to the ship in the form of sound. From her soundproof chamber, Stella’s heightened senses would allow her to interpret the various sounds, detecting enemy vessels, debris or any other obstacle that they might encounter in space. She was even capable, in some cases, of describing the nature of objects; the materials used in their construction, their density, speed of travel, types of shielding and more. When she was in need of rest, the Methuselah made use of its native radar systems, however they lacked the sensitivity of the S.A.L.V.O.
“I haven't spoken to her yet. I'll follow up with her first to see if there's anything we ought to look out for before moving out,” said Kanpei.
“Be sure that you do. We'll be leaning on Stella a great deal, now that we're headed into battle.”
“Yes, sir!” Kanpei gave a salute and began from the bridge.
***
Navigator Stella Ruiz was waiting in her soundproof chamber, attaching a pair of electrodes to her temples. “Mr. Kanpei,” she said as he approached. “To what do I owe the honor?” She put on her headset and turned to face him.
This part always creeped Kanpei out. Though blind, Stella's other senses were so sharp that she could accurately guess the identity of any approaching crewman. She could pin them down from afar, based on the character of their footfalls, their breathing patterns and more. It seemed almost supernatural. Once, he'd tried to change his gait slightly, to see if he could fool her. She'd seen straight through him though, noting his respirations and the subtle cracking of one of his joints as dead giveaways. “We're setting out, Stella. To Earth. I need to know what we can expect.”
“I'm just now coming back on to shift,” she explained. “Let me switch over from the passive system.” Stella furrowed her brow and activated the S.A.L.V.O with the flipping of some few switches on the armrests of her seat. As the system flickered to life, she pressed a finger to her lips and sat still for several moments. A panel full of blinking lights was activated as feedback began to pour into the ship. The resultant energies were processed into something like sound, which Stella's brain proved capable of deciphering. After a few minutes of silence, wherein she monitored a lengthy expanse of space around the ship, she turned to Kanpei. “The surrounding space is clear. There don't appear to be any ships standing between Mars and Earth, save for our own. It's possible that there are some small ones out there...” She hesitated a moment. “As usual, I won't be certain until we're closer. But save for the usual rough spots, space itself seems relatively calm.”
“I see. And Anvil Station?” asked Kanpei. “That's where we'll be heading first. Anything of note out that way?”
A Memory of Violence Page 2